THE MANNER IN WHICH AUGUSTA INTRODUCED THE EMPEROR CONSTANTINE INTO THE PALACE
15. But this is not the time to speak of these things. Our present task is to describe how, and for what reasons, and by what turn of fate, he came to power. Because of his family this man held very high rank in the Empire. He had the additional advantage of great wealth, and his personal appearance was singularly charming. Beyond all doubt he seemed a fit person to marry into the most illustrious families. In the first place he became son-in-law to the most prominent member of court society, but his wife fell ill and died. He was forced into a second alliance. At the time Romanus, the future emperor, was still a private citizen, although high hopes were entertained that he would eventually be promoted and the people treated him with the greatest respect, because of his position. Romanus had conceived a deep affection for Constantine — a young man in the flower of his manhood and scion of a most noble family — and he grafted this fine young cutting on his own rich fertile olive. The lady in question was none other than the daughter of his sister Pulcheria, who in the past had been married to Basil Sclerus (he had the misfortune later to be deprived of his sight) and she had become the mother of this one child, a daughter. Alliance with this family conferred on the young man extraordinary brilliance, but he still held no important office. Basil's advisers, because of the hatred they nursed for the father, vented their spite on the son, and Sclerus's revolutionary designs had an unfortunate effect on the emperor's relations with Constantine. That was the reason why neither Basil nor Constantine, his brother, ever promoted him to any responsible post in the government. Actually, they did him no harm, but he was slighted, and they certainly never dreamed that the man had a glorious future.
16. Even the accession of Romanus did little to help Constantine in his career, so mistaken was the new emperor in his estimate of the young man's qualities. However, Romanus did at least keep him at the imperial court, and if for no other reason, he was very much in the public eye through his near relationship with the emperor. His fresh complexion (to the men of our generation he was as unspoiled as spring fruit) and his graceful manners and his conversation, in which he excelled all others, these were the things that won the heart of the [120] empress. She delighted in his company again and again. He for his part made himself thoroughly agreeable to her, and by cleverly adapting himself to please her on all occasions, he captivated her completely. By these arts he obtained favours from her, but at the same time both he and she were assailed with calumny from the court. There were times when their clandestine meetings were not much to the liking of most courtiers.
17. At any rate, these activities made him a likely candidate for promotion to the throne, and Michael, who succeeded Romanus, viewed him with suspicion. In fact, Michael, even after his own accession, remained stubbornly jealous, although not unfriendly at first. Later he trumped up false accusations, suborning witnesses unjustly, and Constantine was driven from the city. His punishment was relegation to a certain determined area, in this case the island of Mitylene, and there for seven years — the exact length of Michael's reign — he endured his misfortune. Michael Calaphates, like Paphlagon, inherited the emperors' hatred of the young man.
18. Zoe's first reaction, when for the second time she found herself at the head of the Empire, was, as I have already said, to protect herself against any sudden reversal of fortune in the future. To strengthen her position, she proceeded to look for a husband, not a man from abroad, but someone in the court circle. However, as one had been discredited through misfortune, another rejected because of his ignoble lineage, a third suspected as dangerous, and stories had been invented one after another to bring into disrepute her various suitors, she renounced all of them and again considered the claims of Constantine. She spoke openly on the subject to her personal bodyguard and household staff, and when she saw that they were unanimous in their support of Constantine as the future emperor — their agreement seemed almost preconcerted — she informed the senate also of her designs. There too her plan was greeted as an inspiration from God. So Constantine was recalled from his exile, and he set out, still a private citizen and without the paraphernalia of his new dignity.**83
19. When he drew near the city, however, a more sumptuous lodging was prepared for his reception and an imperial tent was pitched for him, surrounded by an imperial guard. In front of the palace there met his eyes a vision of magnificent splendour. People of all ages and conditions poured out in a flood to meet him. There were salutations and addresses of congratulation and good wishes. [121] The city wore all the appearance of a popular festival; perhaps it would be nearer the mark to say that there were two cities, for beside the Queen of Cities there had been hastily erected a second city and the townsfolk had poured out right up to the walls, with markets, and fairs. When all was ready and the preparations for his official entry had been completed, the signal to go forward was given, and with great magnificence Constantine entered the courts of the palace.
20. Since the common laws respecting marriage**84 could hardly be flouted, the patriarch Alexius settled the question of the wedding. He made concessions to expediency — or shall we say that he bowed to the will of God in the whole affair? Certainly he did not himself lay his hands upon them in blessing at the coronation, but he did embrace them after the marriage ceremony and the act of crowning had been performed.**85 Whether this was done in accordance with priestly tradition, or was a bit of flattery and done to suit the occasion, I do not know.
21. For the empresses, these events marked the end of their authority and personal intervention in the affairs of state; for Constantine, the beginning of his reign. His power was now for the first time established. So, after a joint rule of three months, the sisters retired from public life and the emperor — but we must not speak of him yet. First I have some brief remarks to make, for the benefit of those who may be interested.
22. Several persons, on more than one occasion, have urged me to write this history. Among them were not only men in authority and leaders in the senate, but also students of theology, who interpret the mysteries of Holy Writ, and men of great sanctity and holiness. Through the passing of time the historical evidence has already proved inadequate for the writing of a proper record. There is a danger that events may be hidden in the remote past, so forgotten that our knowledge of bygone days rests on no sure foundation.
These gentlemen, therefore, asked me to do what I could to remedy those deficiencies: it was not right, they argued, that our own contemporary history should be concealed and utterly obscured, while events that took place before our time were thought worthy of record by succeeding generations. Such was the pressure and such the arguments with which they urged me to take up this task, but for myself I was not particularly enthusiastic for the undertaking. It was not that I was lazy, but I was afraid of two alternatives, either of which [122] could not be disregarded: I might pass over, for reasons which I will explain later, things done by certain individuals, or distort my account of them, and so be convicted not of writing a history, but of mere fabrication, as if I were composing a play. That was one alternative. The other was that I might go to extreme lengths in hunting down the truth, and so become a laughing-stock to the critics. They would think me, not a lover of history, but a scandalmonger.
23. For these reasons I was not very eager to tackle the history of our times, especially as I knew that in many things I would clash with the emperor Constantine, and I would be ashamed of myself if I did not seize every opportunity of commending him. I should be ungrateful and altogether unreasonable if I did not make some return, however small, for his generosity to me, a generosity which showed itself not only in positive acts, but in the indirect ways in which he helped me to better my condition. It would be shameful if I did not prove my gratitude in my writings. It was therefore because of this man that I consistently refused to compose the history. I was most anxious to avoid imputing any blame to him. I did not want to reveal by my words any actions not to his credit and things it is better to keep dark. I was loath to put before the public a dishonest story, yet at the same time I was unwilling to shame the hero of my former eulogy. In my opinion, it was wrong to exercise literary talents, which I had perfected because of his encouragements to do him harm.
24. Philosophers will tell you that the vain and superfluous are of all things on earth the most despicable. For them the object of life is to understand those things that are necessary to their nature. All else is regarded as merely so many external attributes. However that may be, I cannot use such an argument as an excuse for ingratitude, especially to one who honoured me above my deserts and raised me above my fellows. What I would like, therefore, is either to commemorate him in a panegyric or to pass over in silence those actions in his life which did not spring from worthy motives. If, having set out to eulogize his career, I then rejected those deeds which were the fit object of praise and gave the impression that I had lumped together all that was reprehensible, I would be the worst scoundrel on earth, like the son of Lyxes, who selected the worst deeds of the Greeks for his history.**86 [123]
25. on the other hand, suppose I set aside this project for the moment and propose to write a history of the lives of the emperors, how, when I leave unsaid things which belong to the province of history, am I to deal with those which are the proper object of eulogy? lit would look as if I had forgotten my purpose, or was caricaturing the art of history, by failing to distinguish its subjectmatter and by confusing the role of two forms of literature whose aims are incompatible. Actually I had composed many panegyrics in honour of Constantine before I undertook this work, not without commendation from the public. The high praises I lavished on him were not undeserved, but other writers have failed to understand my methods of composition. The truth is, the actions of emperors are a conglomerate patchwork of bad and good, and these other writers find themselves able neither to condemn without reservation nor to commend with sincerity, because they are overmuch impressed by the close conjunction of opposite qualities. In my own case, I do offer criticisrn, but only for form's sake or in dramatic passages where the prose is affected. In the composition of a eulogy, in fact, my subject-matter is not chosen usually with complete indifference to good or bad: the latter I reject, the former I set on one side, afterwards putting it in proper order. So a homogenous pattern is worked out, a tapestry of the finest cloth.
26. Such is the method I have adopted in composing eulogies of Constantine, but now that I have undertaken to write a history, this plan becomes impossible, for I cannot bring myself to distort the facts of history, where truth is of more importance than anything else, in order to escape the reproaches of my contemporaries. They may accuse me of blaming, where in their opinion I should praise, but I prefer to ignore such criticisms. What I am writing now is not an indictment, not a speeds for the prosecution, but a true history. Then again, had I seen other emperors pursuing an uninterrupted, invariable course of noble action, on all occasions displaying an admirable character, whereas the reign of Constantine alone was marked by deeds of the opposite kind, then I would have said nothing about him at all. Yet no one on earth is faultless and we judge a man by the trait which chiefly distinguishes him from everyone else. So why should I feel ashamed to declare openly whatever injustice or indiscretion this emperor, in common with the rest, may have committed? [124]
27. Most men who have set themselves to record the history of the emperors have found it surprising that none of them kept his reputation untarnished in every particular. Some won greater praise for their conduct in early life, others impressed more in their latter years, and while some preferred a life of pleasure, others dabbled in philosophy, only to confound the principles they had elected to follow and end in muddle. For my own part, I find such inconsistency nothing to marvel at; on the contrary, it would be extraordinary if someone were always unalterable. Of course, it is possible that you may discover some ordinary citizen who pursued the same undeviating path throughout life, from the very beginning to the very end (although there cannot be many examples of such consistency), but an emperor, one who inherited from God supreme power, especially if he lived longer than most, would never be able to maintain the highest standards all through his reign. In the case of the ordinary man, his own nature, plus a good start in life, may be sufficient to ensure virtuous conduct, for the simple reason that he is not overmuch troubled by outside affairs, nor do external events have any effect on his private disposition. How different it is with an emperor, whose private life is never, even in its most intimate detail, allowed respite from trouble! Consider how brief are the moments when the sea is calm and peaceful, and how at other times it is swollen, or lashed by waves, as Boreas,**87 or Aparktias,**88 or some other storm-wind disturbs its rest — a sight I have seen myself many a time. An emperor's life is like that. If he seeks recreation, at once he incurs the displeasure of the critics. If he gives rein to kindly sentiments, he is accused of ignorance, and when he rouses himself to show interest, they blame him for being meddlesome. If he defends himself or takes blunt reprisals, everyone levels abuse at his 'wrath' or his 'quick temper'. And as for trying to do anything in secret — Athos**89 would be more likely to hide itself from human gaze than an emperor's deeds to escape the notice of his subjects! No wonder then that no sovereign's life has been blameless.
28. Naturally, I would have wished that my favourite emperor had been perfect, even if such a compliment was impossible for all the others, but the events of history do not accommodate themselves to our desires. So,**90 divine soul, forgive me, and if sometimes in describing your reign I speak immoderately, concealing nothing and telling the truth, pardon me for it. Not one of your nobler deeds [125] shall be passed over in silence. They shall all be revealed. Likewise, whatever derives not from the same nobility, that too shall be made manifest in my history. And there we must leave the matter and return to our narrative.
29. At the start of his reign Constantine ruled neither with vigour nor with discretion. Apparently, before his accession, he had imagined that being an emperor was to confer on him undreamed-of happiness, something he had never experienced in his life. He had visions, quite unreasonably, of a sudden and complete reversal of his fortunes, and no sooner had he ascended the throne than he attempted to realize these ambitions. Now two things in particular contribute to the hegemony of the Romans, namely, our system of honours and cur wealth, to which one might add a third: the wise control of the other two, and prudence in their distribution. Unfortunately, Constantine's idea was to exhaust the treasury of its money, so that not a single obol was to be left there, and as for the honours, they were conferred indiscriminately on a multitude of persons who had no right to them, especially on the more vulgar sort who pestered the man, and on those who amused him by their witticisms. It is wellknown, of course, that there is in the political world a proper scale of honours, with an invariable rule governing promotion to a higher office, but Constantine reduced this cursus honorum to mere confusion and abolished all rules of advancement. The doors of the senate were thrown open to nearly all the rascally vagabonds of the market, and the honour was conferred not on two or three, nor on a mere handful, but the whole gang was elevated to the highest offices of state by a single decree, immediately after he became emperor.**9l Inevitably, this provided occasion for rites and solemn ceremonies, with all the city overjoyed at the thought that their new sovereign was a person of such generosity. The new state of affairs seemed incomparably better than that to which they had been accustomed, for the truth is, folk who live in the luxury of a city have little conception of government, and those who do understand such matters neglect their duties, so long as their desires are satisfied.
30. Gradually the error of this policy became apparent, when privileges that in the old days had been much coveted were now distributed with a generous abandon that knew no limits, with the consequence that the recipients lost distinction. At the time, though, most people had not yet realized the implications of all this profusion, [126] and so the squandering and waste went on, all to no purpose. Nevertheless, I know that some later historians will find in this trait of Constantine subject for commendation. My own custom, one that I have always followed, is to examine nothing in itself alone, whether apparently good or reputedly evil, but to search out the causes and probable results of each occurrence as well, particularly where my informants are also interested in such hypothetical arguments. Experience has proved that this systematic treatment is better than my successors may perhaps be prepared to admit.
31. The emperor's first act, therefore, was the result of what I may call youthful folly, but there was another side to his character which I confess met with my approval at the time; in fact, even today I am no less convinced of its nobility. I refer to the man's utter lack of boastfulness and false pride; the fact that no haughty or bombastic words ever fell from his lips; that he bore no malice towards those who had treated him none too kindly in the past and who had offered him little help in his fight for power. Not only were all his former accusers forgiven, but he took especial care to conciliate those who might reasonably expect his vengeance before all others.
32. No man was better endowed by Nature with qualities that endeared him to his subjects. He was a good mixer, winning everyone's affections by an art that was conscious, yet unaffected. In his efforts to charm there was no trace of insincerity, only a genuine desire to cultivate friendship, by deliberated setting out to please.
33. Listening to the emperor's conversation was a real delight. He was always ready to smile and his expression was cheerful, not merely in moments of recreation when a smiling face is normal, but even when he was obviously engaged in serious business. His favourite companions were simple persons, the type that did not stand greatly in awe of himself, and he hated to see anybody approach him with a worried look. He had the lowest opinion of these latter individuals, with their air of superiority, their preoccupation with affairs of national importance, and their anxiety to discuss these matters with himself. They must, he thought, have a mental outlook quite different from his own. Consequently, those who lived with him accommodated their behaviour to please him. If someone had serious business to put before the emperor, he would be careful not to mention it at once, but to begin the conversation with some playful remark, or mix serious and playful together, like a man offering [127] an invalid a purgative, with a dash of something to sweeten its bitter taste.
34. The truth is, Constantine looked upon the palace as a harbour, in which he had taken refuge after much buffeting by the waves in a storm — the sufferings he had endured as an exile — and to recompense him for the past, he needed complete rest and absolute tranquility. The man who found favour with him was one with a smooth brow, a man with a tongue always ready to tell a diverting story and to utter the most favourable prophecies about the future.
35. Although he could scarcely be called an advanced student of literature, or, in any sense of the word, an orator, yet he admired men who were, and the finest speakers were invited to the imperial court from all parts of the empire, most of them very old men.
36. At that time I was in my twenty-fifth year and engaged in serious studies. My efforts were concentrated on two objects: to train my tongue by rhetoric, so as to become a fine speaker, and to refine my mind by a course of philosophy. I soon mastered the rhetoric enough to be able to distinguish the central theme of an argument and logically connect it with my main and secondary points. I also learnt not to stand in complete awe of the art, nor to follow its precepts in everything like a child, and I even made certain contributions of a minor character myself. Then I applied myself to the study of philosophy, and having acquainted myself sufficiently with the art of reasoning, both deductive, from cause to immediate effect, and inductive, tracing causes from all manner of effects, I turned to natural science and aspired to a knowledge of the fundamental principles of philosophy through mathematics.
37. If the reader does not find me boring in this and will allow me to go on, I will add to what I have already said concerning my own activities The fact to which I am about to refer will undoubtedly win for me high approval among men of learning, quite apart from all other considerations. And you, who read my history today, will bear witness to the truth of my words. Philosophy, when I first studied it, was moribund as far as its professors were concerned, and I alone revived it, untutored by any masters worthy of mention, and despite my thorough research, finding no germ of philosophy either in Greece or in the barbarian world. I had heard that Greece had a great reputation for philosophy, expressed in simple words and simple propositions, and their work in this field set a standard and [128] criterion for the future. There were some who belittled the simplicity of the Greeks, but I sought to learn more, and as I met some of the experts in the art, I was instructed by them how to pursue my studies in a methodical way. One passed me on to another for tuition, the lesser light to the greater, and he again recommended me to a third, and he to Aristotle and Plato. Doubtless my former teachers were well-satisfied to take second place to these two.
38. Starting from these authors I completed a cycle, so to speak, by coming down to Plotinus,**92 Porphyry,**93 and Iamblichus.**94 Then, continuing my voyage, I put in at the mighty harbour of the admirable Proclus,**95 eagerly picking up there his doctrine of perception, both in its broad principles and in its exact interpretation. From Proclus I intended to proceed to more advanced studies — metaphysics, with an introduction to pure science, — so I began with an examination of abstract conceptions in the so-called mathematics, which hold a position midway between the science of corporeal nature, with the external apprehension of these bodies, and the ideas themselves, the object of pure thought. I hoped from this study to apprehend something that was beyond the reach of mind, something that was not subject to the limitations of substance.
39. It was therefore consonant with this plan that I should pay especial attention to systems of number and examine geometrical proofs, which some call 'logical necessities'. Moreover, I devoted time to the study of music and astronomy, as well as to their various subsidiary arts. First I would concentrate on each study by itself, then synthesize my knowledge, in the belief that the several branches of learning would by their individual contributions lead me to one simple goal, according to the teaching of Plato's Epinomis.**96 So, thanks to these sciences, I was able to launch out into the more advanced studies.
40. I had heard it said by the most learned philosophers that there is a wisdom which is beyond all demonstration, apprehensible only by the intellect of a wise man, in moments of inspiration. Even here my resolution did not falter. I read some of the mystic books and grasped their meaning (as far as human nature allowed me, of course for I myself would never claim that I had an accurate understanding of these things, nor would I believe anyone else who said he had). On the other hand, it is by no means beyond our natural capacity to dwell on one science, as a special subject, and for sake of research [129] to make excursions, as it were, into other branches of learning in a general survey, returning later to one's original starting-point.
41. Literature has two branches. One comprises the works of the orators and the philosophers have arrogated the other. The first, knowing nothing of the deeper things, issues forth merely in a mighty torrent of noisy words; it concerns itself with the composition of speeches, sets forth certain rules for the arrangement of arguments on political subjects and for the various divisions of political orations, lends distinction to the spoken word, and in general beautifies the language of politics. Philosophy is less concerned with the embellishments of words. Its aim is rather to explore the nature of the universe, to unravel its secrets. Its lofty dictums are not even confined to the visible world, for with great subtlety it praises the glory of that realm, whatever it be, that lies beyond the heaven. Now I had no mind to follow the example of most other men, and emulate their experiences — men who study the art of the orator while despising the science of the philosopher, or else engross themselves in philosophy and enjoy the riches to be found in the marvels of thought, but contemn the glories of rhetoric and the skill required to arrange and divide the various parts of a speech. Thus, from time to time, when I compose an oration, I introduce some scientific proof, not without some elegance. Many persons have reproached me for this and they dislike the way I brighten a philosophic discourse with the graceful arts of rhetoric. My purpose in this is to assist the reader when he finds it difficult to absorb some deep thought, and so to prevent him losing the thread of philosophic argument.
42. But there is a new philosophy, based on the mystery of our Christian religion, which transcends the ancient systems. This mystery, too, has a dual aspect, in nature (human and divine), and in time (finite and infinite), not to mention a further dualism when one considers how it is capable of proof, and yet the object of faith and divinely inspired into men's consciousness. It was this philosophy, rather than the profane, which became the object of my special study. In some respects I agreed with the doctrine of the great Fathers of the Church, but I also made some contribution to the body of divine teaching on my own account. I say this in all sincerity and without boastfulness: if any man should feel constrained to praise my literary works, I would beg him not to commend my researches in the field of religion, not to extol my extensive reading (I am not
[130] deluded by a false impression of my own importance, nor am I ignorant of my own limitations: my capacity is very small when compared with the ability of the orators and philosophers who have surpassed me). No, if anyone praises my efforts, let it be rather because I drew my small measure of wisdom from no living fount: the sources I discovered were choked up, and I had to open and cleanse them myself. Their waters, too, were hidden in the depths and only brought to the surface after I had expended much energy.
43. Today, in fact, neither Athens, nor Nicomedeia, nor Alexandria in Egypt, nor Phoenicia, nor even the two Romes (the ancient and lesser Rome, and the later, more powerful city), nor any other state, glories any longer in literary achievements The golden streams of the past, and baser silver, and streams of metal more worthless still, all are blocked and choked up: their damming is complete. So, since I was unable to reach the living sources themselves, I perforce studied their images. These second-hand imitations I greedily devoured in my mind, and having collected the knowledge, I grudged no one else a share in what I had myself acquired at the cost of much labour. Everybody was welcome to learn from me, and far from demanding a fee for my lessons, I was even prepared to help keen students with money from my own purse. But that story must wait until later.
44. In my career, even before the fruit was ripe, the blossom gave promise of a brilliant future. Certainly the emperor did not know me as yet, but I was well-known to all his bodyguard and they spoke of me in his presence, some recounting one quality, and others stressing another. They told him, moreover, that I was an eloquent orator. I would like to say something on this subject here. At the time of our birth, we are endowed with certain natural virtues, or their opposites. When I use the word 'virtue' in this connection, I am not referring to moral virtue, nor to political virtue, nor to the virtue which surpasses these others and attains to the pattern or perfection of the Creator; but just as some bodies, from the moment of birth, are endowed with beauty, while on others nature from their very beginning bestows blemishes and wrinkles, so with souls, too, some are distinguished at once with extreme grace and attractiveness, while others leave a trail of sombre and deep gloom. As time goes on, the innate graces of the first sort become more and more apparent, but in the second everything goes wrong and even the reason functions poorly. [131]
45. However that may be, even in simple utterances I have been told that my language is peculiarly graceful, and though I do not strive after effect, there is in my words a certain natural beauty. Of course, I would not know this myself, had not many folk told me so in the course of conversation and had they not listened with rapt attention while I talked with them. Anyhow, it was this characteristic that first won me access to the emperor, and it was the eloquence of my tongue that, so to speak, proved to be my fore-runner, giving him a foretaste of the spirit deep-hidden within me.
46. At that first interview, my words were distinguished neither by their fluency nor by their elegance, but I told him about my family and the sort of education I had received in literature. As for Constantine, he was affected by a strange feeling of pleasure, as inexplicable as the divinely-inspired utterance of men in a trance. So influenced was he at the first sound of my voice that he almost embraced me. Other men had the right of access to him at set times and for a limited period, but to me his heart's doors were now thrown wide open, and gradually, as I became more intimate with him, he shared with me all his secrets. Please do not blame me if I have wandered somewhat from the main theme of my history, and please do not imagine that this digression is mere self-advertisement. If I have indulged in a certain amount of personal reminiscence, at least it is all directly concerned with the main thread of the story. Without disclosing the reason for it, it would have been impossible for me to speak of that first interview; and, of course, if I wished to explain the reason, it was essential to introduce some remarks on my own career. My history must be written in a methodical way: first the reference to my source, then the sifting of evidence, and finally the account of subsequent events. That is why so long a preface was necessary. Now that I have introduced myself with such a wealth of detail into this part of the history, I can assure you that my evidence will avoid all falsehood; whatever is not said, will remain hidden, but none of the things I am going to say will be of doubtful veracity.
47. Constantine had no very clear conception of the nature of monarchy. He failed to realize that it entailed responsibility for the well-being of his subjects, and that an emperor must always watch over the administration of his realm and ensure its development on sound lines. To Constantine the exercise of power meant rest from [132] his labours, fulfilment of desire, relaxation from strife. He had entered the harbour of the palace, so to speak, to enjoy the advantages of a calm retreat and to avoid the duties of helmsman in the future. As for the administration of public affairs, and the privilege of dispensing justice, and the superintendence of the armed forces, they were delegated to others. Only a fraction of these duties was reserved for himself. Instead, he chose a life of pleasure and luxury, as if it were his natural right (not without some justification, for he had inherited an innate predilection for such things). Now, having acquired supreme power, he had greater opportunity for pleasure, and he indulged himself more than ever.
48. A healthy animal, with a thoroughly strong constitution, is not altered in a moment at the first symptoms of illness. So with the empire in the reign of Constantine: it was by no means moribund and its breathing was still energetic; the neglect from which it was suffering seemed an insignificant item, until, by slow degrees, the malady grew, and reaching a crisis, threw the patient into utter confusion, complete disorder. This later stage, however, had not yet been approached, and the emperor, taking little share in the anxieties of power, but seeking recreation in a multitude of pleasures, was preparing the then healthy body of his empire for a thousand maladies destined to attack it in the future.
49. What contributed in no moderate fashion to such immoderation, was the weak character of the two empresses, and Constantine's willing acquiescence in their luxurious, laughter-loving habits. Participation in these revels he regarded as a service to them; and far from wishing in any way to oppose their desires, he took care to provide them with every amusement. When a certain trouble did arises he would soon have clashed with them, had his wife not agreed with his point of view. Whether she merely concealed her jealousy on this occasion, or had become devoid of it because of her age, I know not.
